The Accident
by Sparky Sparkerson
Summary: Ib's parents are killed in a car crash while Garry is watching her. Both he and Ib have to drastically change their lives in the wake of the tragedy as Garry is her new guardian, as well as reevaluate what they are to one another. Originally a one-shot, continued.
1. Gone

Note: Originally published April 15th 2013 on tumblr.

Garry had no idea what to do when a little girl was crying.

Sure, he'd seen his share of crying girls – in high school, mostly, when their boyfriends dumped them or they were having a hard day in general, and he had done his best to cheer them up if he could – but a _little_ girl? He had no clue.

And most of the time, the girls in school didn't just lose both of their parents.

"I-Ib, honey, it's okay, it's okay…"

The petite form in front of him was shaking with sobs. Her hands covered her crimson eyes, tears flowing over and underneath her slim fingers. His phone that was in her hands just moments before was lying on the floor, the screen cracked from when she flung it to the wall.

Garry tried to stop shaking. A car accident. One minute he and his young charge were playing Monopoly with a plate of macarons between them, the next, she stood shaking as she received the news that both of her parents were dead.

Ib had been given the phone when Garry thought it was a teacher. As he watched her eyes grow wide with terror and grief, he realized his mistake and tore it out of her hands just in time to hear the news.

"They died on impact. We found the woman's phone and dialed her first emergency number. I'm so sorry."

He had dropped it, honestly. In shock. She had picked it back up after a moment and threw it, as if destroying the messenger could render the message false. And now, here they were, a sobbing twelve-year old girl and a confused, fear-stricken adult man.

He couldn't believe what was happening. He awkwardly touched her arm, a delusional thought entering his head that the white shorts and red blouse weren't enough armor for her against such devastating news.

"I-Ib…sweetheart…I-I'm here…"

He gave a slight grunt as she barreled into his arms, her mouth opening in a wail as she pressed against his shoulder. The tears and spit and snot would've made him screw his face up in disgust, but…this was Ib. Ib was crying. His little sister, his closest companion.

He shook a little more at the thought that she was now his responsibility.

Just a year before, Ib's parents had named him her guardian in case anything happened to them. He would be given a sum of money to care for her and the rest would be kept until she was 18, at which point the rest would be given to her.

He felt hot tears sting his own eyes as he moved towards the couch, picking up the tiny girl and carrying her with him, holding her tighter than he had dared to before.

"Ib, Ib, I'm so sorry…"

She was still wailing and sobbing. _It's normal,_ Garry reasoned, _It's okay, she'll be okay…_

He tried not thinking about how he'd have to change his life around, how he'd have to change _her_ life around, in light of this disaster.

"Ib…I'm so sorry, Ib…"

He rubbed her chestnut hair gently, leaning his head back on the armrest as he let her cry it out on his chest.

They lay there for nearly an hour, Garry gently rocking the petite girl and hushing her as best he could.

Ib could finally speak, choked and exhausted. She looked up at her best friend's face, his dark grey-blue eyes pink-rimmed with tears as much as hers were.

"G-Garry…? W-what's going t-to happen to me…?"

As Garry stared into her crimson pools, he felt a flame rise up in his chest and arms. Protection, determination, _fear_ …

He held her even closer to him, placing his lips on her head.

"Ib, I promise, I'm gonna take care of you. You won't ever have to be worried about that. I'm gonna love you and protect you and I swear I'll do everything I can, Ib, I swear…I promise I'll always be here for you, little rose, I promise."

She let out a sniffle and a choke as she lay her head back on his scrawny chest.

He hoped she didn't hear the shuddering breath he let out in relief. He would take care of her. No matter what. He would protect her, like she protected him in the gallery.

She wouldn't have to be afraid as long as he had anything to say about it.


	2. Gloom

"I...I'd like to request a change in my hours, ma'am."

Garry did his absolute best to keep eye contact with his boss, all too aware of the uneasiness of his breathing.

The shorter woman,, in a crisp gray pencil skirt and white blouse, raised an eyebrow in surprise. There was just a hint of frustration flashing in her eyes behind her purple rimmed glasses.

"May I ask why, Mr. Hadley? We just discussed your current hours last week."

Garry hesitated. He hadn't really thought of how to explain the situation. _Well, ma'am, a little girl's parents died on Friday, and I'm her guardian for the next six years._ He really should have called sooner – which would have allowed him to avoid both this awkward exchange, as well as a scolding for being late that morning. But there was so much that needed to be done – what few relatives left Ib had were always coming in and out of the house, watching her and helping him with arranging her parents' funerals. There was paperwork to be done to officially list him as her guardian until she was 18, prepare the money to be streamed in at reasonable increments, figuring out her parent's wills, deciding where they would live and where she would go to school...

Garry broke out of his reverie, realizing he still hadn't responded. "Er...well. The little girl I take care of, her...parents passed away. I'm trying to get her affairs together and prepare myself to be her guardian from now on." He paused, gathering his thoughts. "I don't need that much off, if I can just go home an hour early for the next week to take care of funeral and guardianship arrangements – "

The stern woman's facial expression softened slightly. "I'm very sorry to hear that. However, I must remind you that in order to keep your salary as it is, you must take care of a certain amount of hours. Please work as long as you can, but if you must go, you have my permission."

Garry held back a sigh of relief. "Thank you, ma'am! I'll make sure to fufill my quota."

"Thank you." Garry's boss sighed quietly, shaking her head. "How old did you say she was? Twelve? Poor kid. That's my son's age."

Garry nodded, now trying to control his shaking hands. "Y...yes, ma'am. She's very shaken. She's a brave kid, and she hasn't cried in front of anyone since we...received the news."

The woman rapped her violet nails on her desk as she looked outside her spacious office window. "A kid can be braver than any adult, but she's still grieving, Mr. Hadley. Make sure you don't lose her in the planning."  
"Y-yes, ma'am."

"Get back to work, Mr. Hadley."

"Yes, ma'am."

Garry stood up from the soft leather chair across from his boss and walked out of her office, finally feeling less constricted before feeling restrained yet again by the tasks at hand that needed to be done. He sighed, trying to ignore the nagging thought in the back of his head that had been rapping at his conscious ever since he walked in that morning. _I_ _ **had**_ _to become her guardian just a few months after starting this job._

Writing for a nationwide fashion magazine wasn't as glamorous as he had once been led to believe, but it was still enjoyable. He didn't really have it in him to write cruel or harsh things about the more...artistic ventures into fashion, but he liked doing short columns on nails and accessories, as well as analyzing current trends. He was given articles he was passionate writing, had a good team, everything – it was the perfect dream job, especially for someone just a year after getting his bachelors. In a twisted turn of fate, Ib's parents were the ones who gave him the recommendations he needed to get the position in the first place. He brushed the few blue-gray strands out of his eyes as he made his way back to his cubicle, returning to staring at a column on the shades of red that were coming in style that coming fall. _Fall. School._ He sat down in front of his desk, continuing to write, even though what was really on his mind was mixed between getting Ib to school and getting Ib new clothes.

Ib's aunt opened the door when he returned to her house, giving him a polite smile. "Hello, Garry. Eve was asking when you'd come back."

"Was she? She knows when I'm off work..." He stopped himself as he realized that it was probably unfair of him to assume that she wouldn't be anxious for him to come home.

"She's been asking for you all day. That little girl is very attached to you." She gave him a sharp look along with the response, as if to punctuate it with "so don't mess it up".

As he stepped into the house and walked towards the living room and kitchen, he considered the fact that in reality, he was quite lucky. Even though his relationship with Ib's parents had been rocky at first (a strange man following their nine year old girl home from school for several days came across as concerning at best), but after several months of Ib's insistence that he was "her friend from the gallery" who "gave her the pretty hankerchief" and truly cared about what happened to her, they began to trust him. After a year or so as a friend and willing caretaker for when they needed to go away for business, they trusted him enough to invite him to their various parties. They introduced him to visiting family members as a family friend and Ib's babysitter, so he was known to the extended family. Most of them liked him well enough. There was concern, of course, for a young twenty-something to take care of a twelve year old girl – but, most of her relatives didn't want another mouth to feed, especially since most of them were elderly or unwilling to take on children at all.

He placed his laptop bag on the kitchen table, looking around the rooms for his young ward. "...um...where's Ib?"

"Here."

Garry turned around to see her, standing close behind him. She must have followed him once he came in. He knelt down to her level, placing his hand on the top of her head. He managed a trying smile. "How're you today, rose?"

"Fine." Her eyes were red-rimmed, her nose a cherry color.

Garry's smile pulled tout, trying too hard to fake it. "Let me go tell your aunt she can go home and I'll order us a pizza. Does that sound okay?"

"Okay."

He could feel his chest tighten as he stood again, and offered her his hand as he walked back into the hall to speak with her aunt. Her small hand squeezed his thin fingers.

"Auntie, I think Ib and I will be okay for the rest of the night. Thank you for watching her."

"Not a problem, Garry. It's the least I can do. I'll see you tomorrow." She smiled gently at Ib, reaching for a hug. "Your parents are proud of you, Eve. You've been a very brave girl."

Ib didn't move from Garry's side, completely silent. Her aunt sighed quietly, picked up her purse, and left without another word.

Garry gave Ib's hand a small squeeze. "She lost someone she loves too, Ib," he reminded her gently.

Ib ripped her hand away from his, her eyes wide, wildly angry and pouring out tears. "She didn't lose her parents!" Her scream shocked Garry into silence and stillness as she ran up the stairs and to her room.

He covered his eyes with his hand, rubbing the corners of his eyes with his fingers. _Ugh. Way to go._ _Best guardian ever._ He sat down in an armchair, trying to prevent his own hot, frustrated tears from flowing.

 _I have no idea if I can do this._

(Author's note: Surprise! I wrote more! :) There was a lot of positive feedback as a one shot that I really wanted to continue it - I also may or may not retitle it if I can, depending on what you all think. I hope you enjoy - I have a few more chapters I want to write involving Garry and Ib's new life. Feel free to give me ideas in the reviews! And again - thank you for the support!)


	3. Grief

Garry had never been to any funerals before, really. At least not ones that he could remember. His grandfather died when he was three, and he wasn't invited to his father's. He always assumed that it rained at funerals, just by what he had seen on TV. But the sun was beaming down on them with hot summer intensity, making him even more uncomfortably aware of how much black he and the rest of the crowd were wearing. He handed Ib a water bottle the funeral directors had handed out before they made the trek to the cemetery. "Try drinking something?" He coaxed. She shook her head, wiping her sweaty bangs to the side of her forehead. He stopped, kneeling down and pushing the bottle towards her. "Please, Ib," he insisted, "you need to drink. You've either sweated or cried everything out at this point."

She looked at the bottle, looked at him, and took it silently, pulling the cap off and chugging down half of it.

"Slow down, or you'll get sick," he fretted, attempting a small smile. She handed the water bottle back, wiping her mouth on her sleeve before continuing her walk. He joined her, offering his hand for what felt like the hundredth time. She ignored him for another few seconds before grudgingly placing her hand in his. He sighed. He had done so much research on childhood grief after the accident that he knew that anger and acting out were common reactions to death, but after living with Ib for over a week, he knew it for a fact. Garry had never seen her act the way she had in the hours he spent with her – angry, tearful – terrified.

He didn't like to think about the gallery. But he didn't think that even once, she acted out her fear the way he had. She didn't want to get hurt, certainly, but she was just young enough that she didn't fully understand her own mortality. She was afraid sometimes, but never the anxiety-riddled, wild-eyed fear that she was exhibiting in the wake of her parents' death. It scared him more than anything that this was affecting her more than... _that_. When he, a grown man, continually had nightmares about women in crawling portraits, blonde girls with sharp blades, and wide paintings that had prevented him from ever entering an art gallery in three years, and for the foreseeable future.  
Garry looked down at the thin brunette when she came to a sudden halt. "What's up?"

"...do we have to go back?"

Garry bit his lip. "Well...we're expected to be there for a little bit, rose."

"I don't want to."

"Me either."

"Then why are we going?"

He sighed again. He loved Ib, but...he had no idea how to handle a distraught, grieving twelve year old. He considered how his mother used to explain things he didn't want to do. His dark eyes met with her crimson, and he placed his hand on the top of her head. "It's expected, honey. We won't stay long, I promise. We can even start packing things up tonight if you want."

"Okay."

They continued walking in silence, and they were silent for most of the reception, beyond politely explaining their situation – Garry was going to have her move in with him, the family was going to sell the family house, and he was going to take care of her per the request of her parents until she was 18. He got a few strange looks, and even caught a few of her older estranged cousins whisper unsavory words regarding the type of relationship he and Ib had, but he tried his best to ignore them. After an hour or so, he politely bowed out, Ib in tow. She was silent as he drove away from the church, staring out the window but not really looking at anything. As they pulled up into the driveway of her family home, bigger and more spacious than he could ever hope to pay for on his salary, he turned around to look at her.

"Ib, I - "

She jumped out of the car and ran into the house before he could finish his thought, tearing into the house with more speed than he had seen her exhibit before. "Ib, wait!" He shouted, fumbling with his keys to turn off the engine and pull them out of the ignition before running after her, giving her time to unlock the door and rush inside. He swung the car door open and chased after her into the house, calling for her as he twisted his head around for signs of her. He heard her footsteps above his head, and ran up the stairs to her room as her door slammed shut. Garry stopped in front of the door, confused and, if he was being honest, a little angry. "Ib!" He called, knocking on the door. "Ib, please open the door!"  
"No!" Her voice, muffled by the barrier of the door, sounded even angrier than he did.

"Ib, open the door - "

"You're not my dad! Don't tell me what to do!"

Garry's heart dropped to the floor. He stepped away from the door, pursing his lips before concentrating on preventing any of the sorrow he felt bubbling beneath the surface from showing itself. "Ib...if you need to talk, please...I'm right here..."

Silence.

He stood for a few more minutes before sliding down to the ground against the wall. He sat quietly, his attention fully on sounds coming from the tween's room and keeping himself from making any of the sounds of grief he desperately wanted to let loose. It wasn't like he didn't have an idea of what she was feeling. When his father had passed, he cried like a baby. Of course, at that point, he hadn't seen his father in years and his new marriage had brought him further and further away from ever having a real relationship with him beyond a birthday card every year. But it still hurt. Maybe not as much as seeing his closest friend and confidante lose her parents, but it hurt. He could feel his heart wrenching in his chest, as if it was trying to rip itself out of his body to run away from the fear and anxiety that was crawling in his skin. He never thought of himself as a father figure to Ib in the first place, if anything, he considered himself a friend or a brother – not someone in a position to raise her, to lead her, or even _help_ her the way her parents had. He didn't know how much time had passed when he heard a soft _thump_ against the door, and a dark spot against the lamp light shining through the bottom crack of the door.

"That you, Ib?" he murmured.

She didn't respond, but he turned around anyway, pressing his back against the opposite side of the door to her. "I'm...I'm sorry for sounding demanding." He hesitated, trying to find the words he wanted to say. "I know I'm not your dad, Ib. I'm sorry for acting like I was."

Silence rang between them for several more minutes before her soft voice replied.

"...it's okay. I shouldn't have yelled at you."

He allowed a bitter smile on his face, gathering his stray bangs in a fist. "No, don't apologize. I started that one. I should have let you be for a while."

More silence.

"It's worse than the gallery."

Garry felt his blood freeze in his veins as she voiced his worst fear. He didn't think his attempt at a calm tone of voice succeeded as he managed to choke out, "Why?"

"Because this isn't something we have a chance to get out of." He heard her sniffle. "They're just...gone. That's it. There's no other world, there's no way that this isn't real or just an illusion, they're just - " The sniffles turned into sobs at this point. " - they're just _gone_. I'm never going to see them again. I'm never going to go shopping with my mother again. I'm never going to go to a dance with my father again. We won't have our family dinners – our vacations – our evenings together – I'm never going to have my parents!" By the time she reached her last sentence, she was screaming the words out.

Garry couldn't take it any more. At this point, his own tears were starting to stream down his face. This wasn't a pain he could heal. It wasn't something he could even begin to patch. "Ib..."

The only sounds between them for a few minutes were her heaving, body-racking sobs. As the minutes passed, feeling like eternities, she quietly knocked to alert him and opened the door as he pulled away from the barrier. Garry's heart twisted at the sight of her in her funeral dress, eyes red with tears and mouth open in a silent wail. "Eve..."

He gathered her in his arms, letting her cry out on his shoulder once more. He was painfully aware of how similar the situation was to when she first lost her parents, but hoped she was too distracted with her own grief to recognize it. Instead of saying anything, he simply rubbed her back and smoothed her hair.

Her sobs became deep breaths, and he gently squeezed her. "I'm not your parents. I know I can never replace your parents," he whispered, picking her up and becoming aware that she was not as easy to carry as she was when she was nine. "You're always going to miss them. I can't even...I can't even pretend that you aren't going to." He sat on her bed, holding her close. "But...but I swear we'll eat meals together, and we'll go to theme parks and beaches together, and I'll take you dancing, and I'll take you shopping to the prettiest and fanciest stores you can ever dream, and - " He didn't notice Ib staring up at him as he screwed his eyes up and squeezed her into another hug. " - and I'll love you, so much, Ib, enough for two people." He covered his tear-stained eyes and cheeks with the crook of his free arm, embarrassed that Ib had to see him in such a state. "I'm sorry, rose. I'm going to be strong for you. I promise."

Ib sat up from being held close to his lap and chest, and wrapped her arms around his neck. Surprised, Garry hesitated before wrapping his own arms around her middle, as if they were holding each other in the eye of a storm.

(Author's note: Mmm, that's enough doom and gloom I think for now. Sorry for such a sad chapter! It will get better for the babes, I promise. Thank you for your patience for a new chapter; I've had a pretty horrible writer's block with the chapter after this one and I didn't want to update without something halfway done afterwards. Thank you, and please enjoy!)


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